A Poetry Bouquet



These poems are like a starter, as in a restaurant meal, (though not to be eaten, I must add), and are of no particular subject. They're not only largely earlier poems of mine, and with the longer lines, but ones that I have taken from elsewhere on my site and placed on this page instead.

1.  It's Sad To Say

Perhaps it was a degree of cerebral palsy, her odd walk catching my eye,
It somewhat awkward and uncoordinated, and having kissed running goodbye.
Oh yes, she never to win any marathon, and no doubt the butt of cruelty,
And had I stopped, struggling facial expressions and impaired speech may well have met me.

But I didn’t stop, I an older man not wanting to be viewed suspiciously,
And she perhaps thirteen or so — well, you know how it is these days, tragically —
And thus I passing by, and no doubt young males too, she destined for more misery,
Regardless of whether it was just her walk that repelled; she pleasant facially.

Yes, how tragic, and here folk are complaining — hearing, eyesight and limbs working fine —
Many of them ages in front of a mirror where over this or that they pine.
And that poor young girl thinking, “If only I were like them, they very blessed indeed,”
Yet, they finding flaws that hardly matter, and wishing for things they really don’t need.

All of which reminds me of another poor soul, (working in a supermarket),
His head bent at right angles, and who though deserving of some sort of benefit,
(In order to remain off work), refuses to quit-cum-no pity party trip,
Though many no doubt avoiding him too, only too happy to pleasantries skip.

Yes, both poor souls unable to have their affliction removed, but they coping well,
Their response to their plight heroic, though no medals for them who so much could tell.
For every day such folk have to battle the odds, deal with all those whispers and stares,
And those people who pass them by who’re more concerned with their minor cosmetic cares.

And perhaps I guilty too, though in my case prudence seeming better exercised,
But my heart going out to her — and hence this poem — for over such I agonised.
Yes, walking no trouble for me, no stares coming my way; and a smile would’ve done,
For midst those shadows and clouds that mar their day, they can sure do with a little sun.

As for the rest of us, we oft taking that sun for granted that we see far more,
Thus not appreciating things like we should until affliction comes through our door.
We meantime majoring on minors, and inspecting that mirror too intently,
Our love affair and concern with self an inward degree of cerebral palsy.

By Lance Landall

2.  Teardrops

Only little teardrops, maybe, but not so little that pain that many have inside,
Pain that seems loath to go, it a very tiring foe, pain that's too difficult to hide.
Teardrops that trickle, and possibly tickle, tears that well up and invariably slide,
Tears that despite any efforts made, still have their way, their say, and resolve override.

Tears on the faces of children, friends and strangers, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives,
Tears that too often are seen, even foreseen — yes, featuring in far too many lives.
Tears that can last for ages, chapters or pages, tears that sometimes simply come and go,
Weeping that disturbs, sobbing that perturbs, tears that impatiently burst and overflow.

Yes, only little teardrops, they salty to the taste, they smudged, dabbed at, or brushed away,
Tears that are destined to fall, tears that momentarily stall, tears that much hurt convey.
Teardrops that flow, rapidly or slow, tears that gush, rush, and pride reluctantly forgo,
A single tear, a stream, such a very common theme, one that too many people know.

Tears that cross the genders, each race or caste, tears on the faces of rich and poor alike,
Tears that respect no position, nor any condition, tears that can suddenly strike.
Tears that lie in waiting, they seemingly anticipating, tears that appear on cue,
Tears that are caused by others, or over others, and those things that one cannot undo.

Yes, only little teardrops, maybe, but not so little that sadness that’s deep within,
Pain bubbling from an inner well, tears that one really can’t quell, they moist upon one’s skin.
Tears that coyly peek, then softly and quietly sneak, or hurriedly roll down one’s cheek,
They pain's outward expression, sorrowful confession — yes, teardrops, with their telling streak.

By Lance Landall

3.  When Silence Conveys As Much

When pain’s too deep for words of comfort, ones presence is all that should be felt, so
Leave those heartfelt words for where they have their place, and let love’s quieter side show.
Yes, gently, gently, feather-like tender, only caring arms saying it all,
Until those lowered eyes rise to seek, and those necessary tears cease to fall.

To rush would be a shame, ’cause the deeper the pain, the fuller that well inside,
Which must empty its buckets of sorrow, helped by those loving arms open wide.
Yes, no need of words, love just quietly doing its thing, simply being there,
Because not only via our words, but via our quiet presence, we show we care.

By Lance Landall

4.  Speaking Of The Poor

When the poor are neglected, even hampered, it’s a crime against humanity,
A cruelty that’s inflected on our own kind, for there shouldn’t be poverty.
But alas there is, and this oft midst a selfish, obscene opulence that mocks,
And the gap getting wider by the day, need not the interest of bonds and stocks.

And so, many suffer from want while others overindulge or feed their greed,
And though wealth is hardly a sin, it’s a curse where it turns a blind eye to need.
Yes, karma, some call it, because what goes ’round comes ’round, fortunes lost in a day,
Or ill health suddenly striking, and such a reminder that we’re made of clay.

No, we can’t take it with us, though some seem determined to try, it piled high,
While others can’t afford to see the doctor, or some necessary things buy.
They doing it hard all the way, some every day, and it taking its toll,
Not enough or nothing in their bowl, and far too much in someone else’s bowl.

Yes, many have a love affair with filthy lucre and not their fellow man,
Their values and priorities askew, self being how trouble first began.
And ever since there’s been those who’ve nursed their wounds while others have nursed their treasures,
The latter sometimes the cause of those wounds given their greedy, hardnosed measures.

The true measure of anyone is the depth of their heart, its capacity,
And by that I mean, to show love and care; indifference an audacity.
And thus one spurred by either a higher or lower source, a good or evil force,
And with the resultant consequences of that sad or worthy choice, of course.

And oh, how the needy suffer when their needs aren’t met, and life being so short,
Which means even fewer happy years, many rudderless and without a port.
Hence those shipwrecks; rocky shoals of insensitivity having been too much,
Or in order to cope, it’s a beer jug or reefer that many are seen to clutch.

Therefore, the poor a test, one that we pass or not — and not, being to our shame,
Though I’m sure we’d condemn such indifference ourselves if suffering the same.
Yes, with the boot on the other foot, we possibly squeaking louder than they,
Hence why love and wisdom always seek to do what inevitably’s sure to pay.

By Lance Landall

5.  Winter Joys

You know, even on a winter’s day when the temperature is cool and the sky a sulky, surly grey,
There’s still joy to be found in that bracing wind that livens and refreshes, and with one’s hair is sure to play.
And oh, how cosy it is to be inside near the fire, a delight that only the winter time can bring,
Until that gorgeous burst of blossoming colour that adorns many a beautifully made tree come spring.

Oh yes, how summer is appreciated more having braved the moody winter weather and cooler air,
Having enjoyed those soups that warm and strengthen, and having downed those hot drinks as we lazed in that fireside chair.
Yes, even the curtains pulled, that soft glowing lamp, that book that keeps one engrossed, we relaxed and warm as toast,
And those of us lucky enough, hearing the pounding of waves in the distance bearing down on beach-cum-coast.

And lest I forget, that hail tapping each window, that wailing and whining coming from harassed power lines,
They flailing about as much as branches, and then there’re those moans down the chimney, (and one for the summertime pines).
Yes, those chilly, rainy nights where one’s buried under thick blankets, (toilet visits a reluctant affair),
Such all being part and parcel of that sombre season that never fails to come every quicker passing year.

But as I said, not without those joys that can only come from wintry weather, one tucked up inside or bed,
Or taking in the crisper scenery, one’s body clothed in woollens, gloves warming hands and hat warming head.
Yes, that cooler cleansing breeze that oft becomes more frisky, and that weaker sun that’s sought in sheltered places,
Such all being part and parcel of those long three months and shorter days that create all those rosy red faces.

By Lance Landall

In order to make its point, this poem refers to God.

6.  Grant Me Heaps!

(A prayer, if I may)

Dear God up in Heaven, please make me wealthy — I mean, seriously wealthy,
And then keep it coming, though not for my sake, but for others, and urgently!
You see, there’s so much that I could do to ease the misery of so many,
And on whose behalf I sorely beg — yes, please make me seriously wealthy.

I give my word that I’ll not use such for myself, other than where I have need,
Like a humble home, say, (for I’ve none), and that from bills and debt I may be freed.
Yes, never for selfish indulgence, for there’s so many suffering today,
Yes, anxious and hurting people that I could help, if You’ll just send millions my way.

I want to do what most who’ve wealth do not do — that is, share ninety nine percent,
But I can only do such, if amidst Your plans and daily rule, You so consent.
I’m angry that so many die, that so many suffer, live in poverty,
While those who have so much dispense so little, if any, very selfishly.

Yes, make me wealthy, and please keep it coming — fill my cup each time it’s emptied,
And please respond with urgency, for down here on Earth, dear God, there’s so much need.
I don’t want wealth for wealth’s sake, and I don’t want wealth for me, so please, grant me heaps!
For in times like these, only someone heartless, such wealth squanders and Scrooge-like keeps.

By Lance Landall

7.  Lose Yourself In Others

Life’s too short to waste on petty upsets — and this very day could be our last — or a loved one cease to be,
For life is so random and unpredictable, and why these sentiments should be taken seriously.
And such we do take seriously when we make the most of each moment we have, using it more wisely,
And that being, in the best interests of others, for via doing so, we’ll be the happiest one can be.

Yes, for happiness is something that kind of sneaks up on us when we’re lost in others-cum-those selfless deeds,
And not something that’s found when we go looking for it self interestedly, thus turning plants into weeds,
For that’s how we corrupt our thoughts and actions, and actually deprive ourselves of what truly brings joy,
And why when we selfishly put ourselves before other folk, we can only but true happiness destroy.

Yes, there’s no greater joy but that which is found in serving others, and which often sees some kindness returned,
For those who’re in need are so very grateful when they receive the loving attention for which they have yearned.
And oh, many are in need, and many of them unattended to — those who could help oft looking elsewhere,
But only to end up disillusioned, happiness and joy only being found in projected loving care.

And yes, life is so short, and thus each day precious, too precious to waste, and loved ones too precious to neglect,
For fate can catch us off guard, taking either them or us, hence that common regret, as such we don’t expect.
And yet we know such can happen, and why our focus should be on our loved ones and others, and constantly,
For that’s where true happiness and joy are found; where regrets are few — and how we, remain in their memory.

By Lance Landall

8.  Get With The Cheer

Though life is full of ups and downs, and all too frequent merry-go-rounds,
It’s far better to smile and hold out hope than indulge in marring frowns.
For smiles cost nothing and oft reward, unlike frowns that age and repel,
And that on our way can darken a day, and cheery sunshine farewell.

Yes, it’s far better to dwell on happier things from which good oft springs,
For joy’s not found in sombre moods and negative words-cum-stones in slings.
But rather, pleasant thoughts and positive phrases, and selfless acts too,
That buoy and brighten and helpfully lighten, not see things go askew.

Yes, better to sing or whistle, give a tulip and not a thistle,
For even backhanded compliments can see folk puzzle or bristle.
And thus why we should mind what we say and do, and what’s better pursue,
And not hang but lift our head lest any gloom that we spread stick like glue.

Oh, that healing found in laughter, kindness, compassion and empathy,
We sharing such midst our own woes-cum-life’s cruel and random archery.
For such is more oft how our own discomfort is eased, halved or buried,
And how we spare others from added burdens-cum-what sees them wearied.

By Lance Landall

9.  But

While acceptance and contentment are our best friends, the proverbial “but” has its place,
And that meaning, we going easy on others who find some things very hard to face.
Hence they struggling with acceptance and contentment, for some things aren’t easy to accept,
And some things hard to do without, and hence why over their plight, many have groaned and wept.

Yes, it’s easy to say, “Cheer up,”  “Look on the bright side,” or whatever else in that vain,
But many have had a bad an unfair run, have suffered some terrible loss-cum-pain.
And oh, how some things have a way of compounding, and often it doesn't rain but pour,
Thus one thing after another entering through an already violated door.

Words are all well and good, but applying them another matter, and such made harder
When help and support isn’t there like it should be, and why under the strain many err.
Enter us and sympathy, empathy, compassion-cum-kindness — well, hopefully so —
For though one can pray for others, that same God intended that they get help from below.

Yes, it’s so easy to lose patience with someone, but things can take time, which tests us too,
For any impatience on our side could show we’ve a weakness too, or short-sighted view.
And why here that “but” has more to do with us, we understanding how hard it can be
For some to apply what is written or spoken, and yes, however true it may be.

By Lance Landall

10.  When Love Surprised

One day Jed went looking for love, though experiencing some difficulty,
For love’s not always easy to find and its genuineness a rarity.
But there love was, Jed seeking a warm embrace, soothing words he wouldn’t forget,
And not the reaction that came his way and that in doing so exposed his debt.

“Why are you wanting me?” love asked, and Jed replied, “Because you make me feel good,
And feeling good means everything to me, and hence why I’d be pleased if you would.”
But love drew back.
“Well, feeling good is nice, but there’s quite a big difference between feeling good
And being good, and good’s where it’s at, not mere feelings, which needs to be understood.”

“If you’re good you’ll probably feel good, but feeling good won’t make you good, you see,
And why you’re wanting me for the wrong reason, a fix that’s sort of momentary.
Yes, I can certainly provide you with pats, hugs and kisses-cum-warm fuzzies,
Up your emotional state and do and say things that will definitely please,

And you’ll be back again,

But I’d like to test you, try your patience, check your direction and loyalty,
And as well as this, how you might use me as I’m all about others, you see.
In your current state I think that you’d let me down, moan should I seek to chastise,
As your reason for wanting me is shallow, and it’s shallowness that I despise.”

“You see, it’s all or nothing with me, till the end of the road, actually,
And I not abiding selfish, bigoted, loud, lusty, smutty company.
No, I’m too pure for that, don’t want my appearance soiled, don’t want my words confused,
Though I have to say that I’ve already been misused, am quite battered and bruised.”

“Such is why when folk are told of me they often picture me incorrectly,
Their feelings thus having so much more to do with it all than reality.
Yes, it’s a burden that I’ve had to bear, and one I fear you’ll simply add to,
Unless I can help you see otherwise, take you down a better avenue.”

“It’s all about giving, not getting, though I do deliver on all fronts, and,
Aren’t unmindful of those sighs and yearnings within, so please don’t misunderstand.
But goodness is more to be sought, and with it, that love and care for others, who,
Are looking for me as much as you are, but most for the same flawed reason too.”

By Lance Landall

11.  Yardsticks

We can look at a person’s face or body and it may not appeal, but hey,
It’s what’s inside that counts, and those not so blessed oft lovely people, by the way.
Someone who'd make their partner very happy, their beauty in their words and ways,
And why those who’ve foolishly gone for looks and size have found that it seldom pays.

So please mind when you’re scanning, and maybe with a partner in mind, lest you err,
For that one who doesn't appeal might be one who you’d actually prefer.
Too many judge a book by its cover, rejecting what’s really a treasure,
And all because they use the wrong yardstick when it comes to them taking measure.

By Lance Landall

12.  Above All This, Be Loving

Come your early morn deliberations, and midst your daily toil and pleasure — above all this, be loving —
And this, despite distractions, vexations or afflictions, thus being at peace with yourself, that your heart may sing.
For love is what holds everything together, it delivering hope, wisdom, strength and opportunity,
Whereby we can be healed, enlightened and encouraged, and others too, they blessed by our caring energy.

Yes, come each day life gives you, all that you encounter, and all you say and do — above all this, be loving —
So that beautiful refrains may ennoble your mind, and within your heart, harmonious melodies ring;
And within your soul — your very being — deep compassion be found mixed with mercy, empathy and sympathy,
Such reaching out to those around you, they in turn often displaying that very same generosity.

Yes, such having started with you, others blessed by your charitable heart, it open, honest and sincere,
Welcoming and forgiving, and like your mind-cum-sharper conscience, it seeking what’s best, it healthy and clear.
For midst the highs and lows of life, and any wrong that is done to you, you’re now choosing the following way:
Above all this, be loving — you knowing that taking any other path, is to falter-cum-badly stray.

Yes, it’s a simple reality, a prediction that’ll always come true, one with a lifetime guarantee,
For only love is the ultimate answer, the meantime way — given and not expected — such being self free.
But oh, how such oft returns like heavenly carrier pigeons, for that’s the nature of love, you see,
Though should such pigeons not return — above all this, be loving — that others, love’s better way may thereby see.

By Lance Landall

13.  The Magic Of Love

I don’t believe in magic, as such is the product of childish imaginings and storybook fiction,
For when it comes to the natural course of things, certain laws and nature’s way, such acts in contradiction.
And where magic's not the product of fantasy movies, science fiction and children’s books, I believe it to be:
Sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors-cum-deception and trickery; or the work of evil spirit beings, actually.

Though having said that, I do believe amazing things happen, many being referred to as a miracle,
But such being the product of love-cum-thought and kindness, and the results more astounding-cum-remarkable.
And were one to call that magic — well, magic of a kind — then a strong believer in magic I would be,
But though believing in good spirit beings, such is simply that selfless love-cum-power that is shown by many.

Oh yes, how we underestimate those acts of human kindness, they oft working just as magically,
For there’s no greater power than love, it not borne of trickery, but sincerity and transparency.
And why as a result, lives are changed, deep wounds healed and burdens lifted, or someone soon seen to bloom and grow,
For within those seeds that love plants, there’s more magical presence-cum-surprise than any magician can know.

And therefore, and within us all, there’s a magic awaiting the sowing of any kind deed that we plant,
Be such via word, pen, our hands or feet, which the wish-cum-hope and desire of some dear needy soul can oft grant.
And all it takes is the magic of love, a power not only at our disposal, but miraculous,
Whereby the lives of others can be greatly blessed, all thanks to love’s magic wand, courtesy of any of us.

By Lance Landall

14.  Loving Ways

Nothing makes a person more attractive than loving ways, that caring look that’s seen in their eyes,
Those tender touches and thoughtful words, and those questions that a genuine interest implies.
And yes, those kind deeds and responses, their seeking after what’s best and right, and their honesty,
For those whose heart is genuine don’t deceive, but rather, practice fairness and transparency.

Yes, no artificialness mars their character, they simply who they are and in every way,
Their love and concern for others apparent, they oft stopping to lend a hand along the way.
They knowing how hard life can be, and how many are in need of a shoulder or outstretched arms,
A port in a storm, a restorative oasis from harsh realities, some hope that calms.

And what a blessing where someone fits the bill, they so like medicine, a surgeon deftly skilled,
And oh, how after their sensitive, non-judgemental compassion the air's so fragrantly filled.
And not just for that moment or period of time, but forever in someone’s memory,
For the perfume of unconditional kindness and charity is lasting and heavenly.

If only the lives of all were blessed by such people, they too few in the scheme of things, sadly,
But we can take up the challenge, thus boosting the number of those who act so generously.
And there’s no better path, and how we become happier, for as far as life goes — it’s the key —
Unlocking a door through which only but good can come, good created by acting selflessly.

By Lance Landall

15.  Musing Out Loud

When I look at Earth’s beauty, the miracle of birth, and that love that I see,
Or feel, I sense that life’s not just about me but a bigger reality.
And that I have been blessed with something that I may never have had, and am glad,
Despite any negatives, things and acts that one can only deduce as bad.

And so, reach out I must, self lost in giving, aiding both dying and living,
And I, moving on, not griping at misfortune’s ill, and always forgiving.
For there’s always a pretty flower, a brighter day, happier hour, and you,
Another precious human who shares the same sun and skies having made it too.

And here I sit, nourishing food before me and scintillating company,
We each unique yet joined by that long umbilical cord of humanity.
And then we link arms, forging rivers, crossing seas, scaling heights, sharing the load,
Resting our heads after work and play, after having traversed that time worn road.

And so, I enjoying trees, the birds and bees, and every other creature found,
The beaches and the sunsets, polka dot serviettes, and when my head’s on the ground.
Oh, how stars twinkle and the silence of the night stirs, for there is majesty,
Grandeur as deep as canyons, as high as mountains, and one more reason to be.

By Lance Landall

16  Hit The Road Jack

Though this world is in turmoil, there’s a song in my heart, for I have made up my mind to make the best of things —
From which hope springs — for despite any ill around me, I can be at peace within, and hence why my heart sings.
Yes, troubles always come and go, even linger awhile, but why should I let them have it all their own way?
For troubles are trouble enough without me giving them a shovel, and for good measure, a heap of clay.

So, better to make the best of things, for we’re only allotted three score years and ten — sometimes less or more —
And much of that is spent sleeping, which means we’ve even less time to celebrate life, and this or that explore.
And to gain the most from life, we need that cheery inner melody, a calm and positive energy,
For wallowing in sorrow, bemoaning our misfortunes, or nursing our wounds, thwarts hope and possibility.

Yes, it’s better to show negativity the end of our boot, thus telling those troubles a thing or two,
For though we can’t always stop troubles coming our way, we don’t have to feed and clothe them, nor tuck them in too.
No, for they’ve no right in our life, unless we foolishly invite them, and that would be a terrible shame,
For troubles often steal enough as it is, and oh, how sad it is when we only have ourselves to blame.

But such needn’t be, and why when troubles gatecrash our life, we should meet them with courage and authority,
They thus receiving a reception that thwarts their worst, we showing them who’s boss, despite some cruel injury.
And midst any ensuing scuffle, we smiling and singing, even whistling a tune like “Hit The Road Jack,”
And then prudently guarding the door, lest via not doing so, more troubles enter, or those old ones come back.

Yes, hit the road troubles, "and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more..."

By Lance Landall

17.  Pieces Of Clay

Once born, each one of us is somewhat like a piece of clay that’s awaiting the sculptor's hand,
And that sculptor being life’s influences and experiences, the prepared and unplanned.
And for most, that clay needing to be reshaped in time, or it worked upon vigorously,
The initial moulding amateurish, faulty-cum-disappointing-cum-so plain to see.

Yes, the sculpturing changing hands for better or worse, the clay too soft or hard, moist or dry,
We thus becoming a beautiful work of art or a frenzied attempt that went awry.
And we yielding or resisting, and here I’m meaning: We oft yielding far too easily,
Or resisting where we shouldn’t, and thus affecting the end result wisely or poorly.

Sometimes it’s like we’re placed on a potter’s wheel where one deft move or sudden jerk makes or breaks,
Or it’s as if we’re placed in a brick enclosure where we crack or strengthen midst heat that bakes.
And then there’s that glaze, it enhancing a job well done, a creation showing care and skill,
Or it imprisoning a graffitied, disfigured vessel that discerning eyes won’t thrill.

Yes, be it choices, our background, those influences or experiences, all mould and shape,
They acting like a sculptor whom we should willingly embrace or from whom we should escape.
For that which does the moulding and shaping usually gains the mastery, and why we
Shouldn’t yield to just any sculptor, nor resist what may be better and necessary.

By Lance Landall

18.  Never Expect

A lesson I’ve been taught, though one perhaps not fully learnt, is to never expect-cum-wait expectantly,
For so often in this life we don’t get what we should, be that emotionally or materially.
And the reason why is, because we live in a cold, callous and selfish world, one where folk don’t always think,
Nor are always able to see, and why, (figuratively speaking), many who can’t swim are left to sink.

Hence why so many are going it alone, and sometimes that’s all that one can do, and that, as best one can,
Given that what we’ve a right to expect, (though not wise to be expecting), is withheld by our fellowman.
They making excuses for not attending to whatever need, or simply acting indifferently,
Many fattening their lot while others are going without or not enough, or struggling emotionally.

Perhaps you’re someone who doesn’t expect, but who knows what should be happening, and in that sense, feel
Which though understandable, really doesn’t get us anywhere, and oft worsens things considerably.
For people sometimes harden their hearts, and in their ignorance or selfishness, they look upon us badly,
We only creating some rift or row, and more troubles for our self, and why it’s best to act prudently.

You see, people either give or they don’t — it’s either in their heart to or it’s not — and when we force folk to,
We may get what we want, but have we changed things for the better, and how does that make us feel, though such
be due?
The truth is, that humanity will always let us down, and seldom live up to our expectations, for
Though those expectations might be reasonable, people often aren’t, and our plight can thoughtlessly ignore.

But such aside, it’s always far better to give than to expect, for what goes around often comes around,
And how we sometimes end up getting what we needed — a pleasant experience that many folk have found.
And hence why when we share the little that we do have, we can end up better off — and we, far more at peace —
Unlike many who though knee-deep in treasure, selfishly keep such to themselves, and such even seek to

Now back to where I came in...

Yes, so many are struggling or suffering in some way, they so in need, and expecting what should be so,
But they’re bound to be disappointed, if not already, as many who’ve gone before only too well know.
And why it pays to never expect, but rather, to speak on behalf of others who’re in need, and strongly,
Once again remembering that what goes 'round oft comes 'round; and we hoping, not expecting, much more

Yes, there’s nothing wrong with living in hope, for hope can keep us going, so long as it’s reality based,
And by that I mean, (and in the meantime), that the issues that we have in our life need to be squarely faced.
For whether we expect or hope, we may not receive the thing or things that we desire, such more oft the case,
And why expecting can lead to disappointment and hamper contentment — the latter oft spoilt by what we chase.

Yes, never expect, and if you do receive what you should — rejoice!

By Lance Landall

19.  Mind Those Dreams

I guess we all dream about something, something we’d love to achieve, do or have — for me a home —
Yes, a home of my own, I oft looking at homes I wouldn’t mind when on sunny days I roam.
But such seems beyond me now, and thus only a dream, though there’s something that I thought I would share,
And that is, things don’t bring happiness, only pleasure, and if your heath has gone, such pointless here.

You see, so many people are into things, wanting this and that, but meantime not taking care,
They neglecting their health, marriage, or family, hence those unfortunate regrets many share.
Yes, they may have what they desired — a home to be admired — but here they are, their dream having cost,
They crippled, divorced, lonely, or saddled with debt, and what really meant the most to them, now lost.

And this discovered too late, their mansion for all to see, and so too, the tragic irony,
For here they are hobbling to their letterbox, pain their lot now, and even emotionally.
Yes, there’re so many homes I see that appeal to me, but how many cost far more than money?
The occupants no longer happy-cum-little communication and no intimacy.

Seems we oft don’t appreciate how blessed we are, nor truly relish what we have — such folly —
And hence those dreams that can sometimes cost us, and thereby confront with some sad reality.
And how many lose a wonderful spouse, or the likes of their health? — better than a home by far,
But that, and even more, is what can happen when people go chasing some not so shiny star.

By Lance Landall

20.  Early And Quickly

So many have issues, be it low self-esteem, some obsession, or whatever it be,
Issues that need early intervention, and lest things worsen, affect their maturity.
In other words, so many carry such ills into what becomes a crippled adulthood,
They not having received the help they should’ve, and adding to such, they oft not understood.

Hence why society should be geared up to spot such issues early, thus acting quickly,
For many could be helped, turned around, their issues no longer afflicting society,
And they, no longer dogged by such, and nor their relationships, marriage, or own family,
And thus all and sundry benefiting as a result through acting early and quickly.

But where’s the will, the passion, time, effort and money too oft going elsewhere, and wrongly?
Hence those further suicides, divorces, criminal acts, or whatever the case may be.
And we with blood on our hands, albeit indirectly, our attention having been elsewhere,
And by that I mean, selfishly and thoughtlessly, our lack of care-cum-indifference clear.

Yes, who wants to bother with other peoples’ issues, it seems, and why such falls on so few,
Hence why most people are left with their issues, which somehow, somewhere, sees things going askew.
And no surprises there, for issues seldom resolve themselves, but rather, remain and smoulder,
All being why we shouldn’t wait until such issues become compounded, and such folk older.

By Lance Landall

21.  Time And Room

Though we may desire those needed changes in our character, and though such may be our goal,
We oft let ourselves down and display the old self again, perhaps afflicting some poor soul.
Yes, despite those attempts we make to act differently — our heart seeking such sincerely —
We somehow mess up again, our words and actions contrary-cum-hello hypocrisy.

Oh, how discouraging such is, for often it’s goodbye friendships and opportunities,
Others thinking the worst of us, oft backing away from us, despite our “Sorry” or “Please.”
And sometimes when we are forgiven, or folk not write us off, we somehow mess up again,
We not meaning to, of course, but oh dear, how the old self resurfaces beyond our ken.

And hence that head scratching, old habits dying hard and painfully, but so long as they are,
They meantime more likely raising their head when we’re besieged-cum-stressed — or health wise, under par.
And so it goes — a sad reality, unfortunately — and thus why it is that we
Should always give others time and room to grow, such being what we all need — kindness and mercy.

So let's bear long, such oft resulting in someone’s turnaround which otherwise mightn’t have been,
Albeit very slow in coming, even annoyingly so, but better late than not seen.
And society all the better off — and yes, even we, for what goes around comes around,
Including that hardness and impatience we oft show, which someone’s old self is sure to compound. 

By Lance Landall

22.  Life Can Be Hard

Oh, how we wish for things, and they sometimes within our grasp, and then suddenly —
Whoosh! — they’re gone again, and we are left feeling that loss, enter despondency.
And often those things we wish for are good things — in other words, very worthy,
But no, (for some reason or other), and thus life treating us most unfairly.

Sometimes we make it harder for ourselves, things taking more time to come our way,
Or never, seemingly, and for many, that’s the sad reality of today.
Oh, how we wish we could undo some things, push rewind, but once they’re done they’re done,
Hence why past ills oft predict future disappointments, though who of us has none?

Yes, even when we haven’t erred, we can still be denied things, or they taken,
The latter leaving us deeply wounded, grieving, or simply badly shaken.
And we thus wondering about it all, even contemplating foolishly,
For who knows what tomorrow may bring, and we having exited too early.

Well, some folk do take that path, don’t they — and to be fair, some weights are hard to bear,
But what a waste and double tragedy, all why another’s load we should share.
And who knows when we may want a hand, or have we already had such a hand?
And thus another’s struggling are far better able to see and understand.

By Lance Landall

23.  Please

“Life goes on,” they say, and that is true, and attitude everything too, but hey,
Some things in life can really hit hard, put a slippery mountain in our way.
Enter hardship and misery, depression and tears, the desire to opt out,
And when we are needing it most, support and empathy often not about.

And so we suffer alone, have to make it on our own, battling with despair,
We desperately seeking this or that, and oh, how we sometimes badly veer.
Enter condemnation, as if platitudes haven’t been bad enough, and now
We having more on our plate to deal with, could be clinging to a breaking bough.

Yes, far too often, too little attention is paid to those in agony,
And why they suffer more, even choose the wrong door, oft become a tragedy.
And then, they another conversation piece, when what they needed was a hand,
One with a loving arm attached, for that’s oft the only way that some can stand.

So please...

By Lance Landall

24.  That Failure To Understand

As I’ve gone through life, observing this and experiencing that, the most problematic of things I’ve seen,
Is that failure to understand others, and that when it comes to relationships, so oft gets in-between.
The truth is, our understanding only goes as far as the effort we make, or should I say, want to make,
For how oft do any of us really go to any great lengths-cum-serious action for another’s sake?

And therein lies the problem, we not sufficiently interested, or just not interested at all,
And why we fail to understand, or only partially grasp things, such oft leading to some bad judgment call.
And then there’s our personal bias, for how can we truly see when our thinking’s coloured by this or that?
Such possibly glaringly obvious come some confrontational encounter; even general chat.

To be fair, there are some things that we may never fully understand, or grasp at all — sometimes sadly so —
But what a shame should such be due to a lack of effort, or that callous, “I really just don’t want to know.”
It’s bad enough that lack of experience or personal growth can get in the way, without apathy,
Or we simply too caught up in our own little world, too content, too busy, or too distracted to see.

And as a consequence, many having to live with being viewed in some unfortunate way that isn’t so,
Or they not getting the support and attention they need, from which sad things can flow, or destructively grow.
And we then pointing the finger and condemning, thanks to failing to understand, or not wanting to see,
All of which often has its roots in selfishness, or that only prepared to go so far mentality.

Yes, what we fail to understand can work against us, let alone its impact on others, and hence why we,
Should not only try to understand, (proof that we do care), but to the fullest of our capability.
And you know, it’s oft via our understanding of others that we grow, we thus seeing things differently,
As our own little world is simply just that, and why it needs enlarging at every opportunity.

By Lance Landall

25.  Bear Long With Others

Too many are quick to write someone off because of their views or ways, they hardly bearing long,
Though not so happy when the boots on the other foot, but after all, haven’t they behaved wrong?
Yes, they quick to write someone else off, but not happy when others are quick to write them off too,
Forgetting that what goes around comes around, for writing folk off is an unkind thing to do.

Many are written off simply because they’re not understood, they far from wrong, strange or silly,
But the latter isn’t seen due to others not bearing long, more involvement necessary.
Oh, how some misunderstanding oft gets in the way, which more effort could sort, but no thank you,
A toe has been trodden on, or something misread, so what do foolish-cum-immature folk do?

Yes, they write the other person off when it’s better to resolve things and somehow bridge the gap,
For the value and very being of another is something too precious to hastily scrap.
But oh, how folk treat others so casually, coldly, (as if humans were throwaways too),
Rather than taking the time required to really get to know folk, which kindness would seek to do.

At the end of the day, we’re all unique, and why our response to others should be tailor-made,
We not confining them to our box, or some other box that just sees things skewed and wrongly weighed.
Nor expecting them to conform to some pattern, they uniquely who and how they are — we too —
Which is why we should treat folk as we’d have them treat us, not write them off as far too many do.

By Lance Landall

26.  Was That You I Saw?

Was that you I saw today helping someone on their way? — their burden heavy,
But you kindly easing the weight, hence that lilt in their gait, “Thank you” plain to see.
Oh, what a difference it makes when we sooth someone’s aches, lift their spirits too,
And all it takes is oft a little, which helps to whittle, and improve their view.

Yes, it’s wonderful seeing someone acting lovingly-cum-a heart that’s warm,
For sad to say, and in this cold old world today, such caring isn’t the norm.
But even though that be the case, and such not commonplace, it doesn't stop you,
Nor me, from doing what we can to help our fellowman, and no matter who.

And this, even when our own life’s rough, and the going tough, for though it be so,
The pleasure in helping others, our sisters and brothers, can oft lift our low.
For though our lot may remain, we’re less aware of the pain, our thoughts being elsewhere,
We more able to see how others are worse off than we, who less have to bear.

So if it was you I saw today helping someone on their way, good on you,
For you’re an everyday hero, and even more so, if much you’re going through.
And though small your help may seem, it’s adding to life’s kind stream, which you’ll help to swell,
That it may overflow and everywhere go, and more gloomy shadows dispel.

By Lance Landall

27.  Get Off That Pedestal

It’s one thing to disagree with someone, but quite another thing to shun,
For who among us is a perfect example, and wrong has never done?
The truth is, we’re all flawed from head to toe, so undeserving of a throne,
And yet, how oft we don some crown, and our own glaring flaws refuse to own.

Yes, it seems that it’s always someone else who’s at fault, we clothed in pure white,
Or seemingly a shade that’s pretty close, thus seldom wrong, most often right.
And we, watching from our self-righteous tower, the drawbridge ready to pull
Should any seek our presence or attention who we deem undesirable.

Well, last I knew, most castles are in disrepair, they close to tumbling down,
And those who once sat enthroned within, no longer sporting their royal gown.
But rather, they pushing up daisies, pride-cum-pompousness no longer seen,
All why we should treat everybody well, and our own feathers never preen.

Yes, it’s one thing to disagree with folk, but quite another thing to shun,
We ignoring or cutting them off, smugly firing some cruel mental gun.
And all so very hypocritically, for how oft we talk of love,
And then, where certain words are needed, use our fist without a padded glove.

By Lance Landall

28.  Pity Help Us

You know, we’re all so darn selfish, so caught up in ourselves, AM and PM,
Always wanting others to understand us, but failing to understand them.
We busy running here and there, and others needing to be understood too,
And maybe more so, but we in our own little world; and how things go askew.

Yes, some relationships going from sad to bad, we nursing this hurt or that,
And some of those hurts more perceived than real, able to be resolved via a chat.
But no, ain’t talking, and why some things aren’t resolved, or only after much time,
And we the one at fault, or clinging to some grievance over which we oft chime.

So what on earth’s wrong with us given that such behaviour can go on for years,
We hollering for plasters and crutches, or searching for sympathetic ears.
And oh, how we nauseatingly whine, repelling rather than attracting,
And when it comes to certain things, many of us simply overreacting.

Yes, we full on about others, and oft resenting truth said of us — oh dear —
For we should be taking on board such truth, and cultivating a caring ear,
One that responds to the cries and complaints of others, for self’s a dead-end street,
It’s row of houses full of folk who’re seldom happy and depressing to meet.

By Lance Landall

29.  Time Is Less An Enemy, More A friend

“When I was younger,” He said to me, “Twenty, thirty, even forty, fifty,
I had things figured out, or so I thought, but I didn’t have, actually.
Yes, much I thought back then I changed my mind about, and again, ever learning,
The chapters of my life but mere stages, the years-cum-pages quickly turning.”

“And thus with each leaf I turned there came new revelations — insights, really — oh,
I having ran, not walked, and oh, how much I talked, hardly listened, nor thought, no,
Except about me, and even then, what did I really know about myself,
Or ever would, I being the product of many things, hence that out of reach shelf,

— well, seemingly —

That shelf where my book will finally lie with the rest, folk who thought they knew too,
And more known about others, I fear, fingers pointing as they’re prone to do.
And I just as guilty, wishing I could tear some pages out, pen some new lines,
And wiser souls hardly surprised who saw the trend, those tendencies, telltale signs.”

“All why patience rewards, not to mention an attentive ear and thoughtful heart,
Selfishness nothing but a curse, and hang ups a threat to any apple cart.
And why it’s true, (and oft sadly so), that the years teach much that the days never know,
And this being why older heads are far wiser, sounder — well, generally so.”


“We too impatient, too self-focussed, and oft don’t really know what we want, ’till
Many tears later we’re looking at loss or disappointment, trouble or ill.
Yes, maturity’s a progressive thing, and oft our tastes too, but oh dear me,
We think we know better, and for example, marry badly or too early.”

“In other words, our youth a perilous time, and more so when one goes astray,
Rebellion adding to immaturity’s bumblings, those things we poorly weigh.
And so it goes, sentences of tales, paragraphs of grief, a book of sorrow,
So many having spurned advice, played with fire, lived as if there’s no tomorrow.”

“And I no lesser fool, for life’s bad breaks and cruel blows shouldn’t be added too,
And by that I mean, via one’s stupidity or foolishly chosen avenue.
Though here I’m somewhat shouting into the wind, for I’m not the first or the last,
But simply another who has encountered reality, removed the mask.”

And I thought to myself, this chap knows what he’s talking about.

By Lance Landall

30.  Where Are Such People?

Give me the person that one can disagree with and still be friends — yes siree! —
Such put aside for harmony’s sake, the best interests of humanity.
A spirit of forgiveness and reconciliation, a moving on, and
Evil not gaining some victory, and all doing their best to understand.

Oh, those fools who sulk and murmur, criticism perhaps too prickly for them,
And yet, some minor fault or flaw in some fellow human are quick to condemn.
Move on! Move on! Take it on the chin, your character’s being tested, you know,
And disagreements there’ll always be, and the bigger man always the hero.

By Lance Landall

31.  Let’s Not Kid Ourselves

Though we should have love in our hearts for all, such doesn't mean dumping commonsense,
Because the results of foolishly accepting everything are immense.
And so, we love the person but never condone those things that aren’t good or right,
Otherwise, we’ll just head back into darkness rather than forward into light.

And back into darkness we’ve gone, for things once rightly condemned, folk now laud, and,
Confusion is plaguing the land, solid rock having been discarded for sand.
And this all making our world brighter, fairer and happier, supposedly,
And supposedly is right, because the truth is, we’re perching perilously.

By Lance Landall

32.  Best Give It Serious Thought

If there’s a test of our character, it just has to be the poor and needy;
In other words, how we respond, showing charity or culpability.
We either helping or worsening, ’cause doing nothing equals the latter,
And hence this being why our response here is more than a serious matter.

The truth is, that as we help others, we help ourselves, for what goes ’round comes ’round,
Such acting like an unseen law, and why here, one’s destiny is surely found,
Because if there’s a God, as I believe, such would have to be His litmus test,
And thereby, our response here, resulting in us being either cursed or blessed.

By Lance Landall

33.  Dear Businessman,

And though I’m well aware, of course, that a business needs to run profitably,
I appeal to your generosity, for many are struggling terribly.
The cost of your needed product and services is a real burden for some,
Be they the retired poor, some beneficiary, or an unwell dad or mum.

Yes, I’m well aware your profits would be lessened by such generosity,
But less is all that I’m talking about for the sake of those who’re less wealthy.
In other words, those who’ve little or nothing, those who struggle to make ends meet,
A doctor’s or dentist’s bill, small things to big things, daily living some feat.

And we too prone to judge, unaware of much in people’s lives, pain and worry,
Hence those sleepless nights, those arguments, those pillow stains — others in a hurry,
So little time, even care, such more why your thoughtfulness is so needed here,
A discount, even a wave of the hand, maybe, their gain some loss you can spare.

And such thought and care your legacy — you a legend — not just another boss,
But the kind of businessman that all, not just needy folk, love to come across.
Yes, you not just an owner or manager, but a man with a heart and soul,
Who’s compassionately easing a load that may be taking a heavy toll.

By Lance Landall

34.  Of You

Of you I tell and teach my children, "Don’t hurt that soul! Never, never, never,
But treat them like something very precious that’s been left in your care forever.
Yes, now and always, for they're a human being too, not a thing, nor wood or steel,
But a living, breathing part of all we are, another who can think and feel."

And hence why no noble person would act otherwise via some word or deed,
Injuring being a weakness, not a strength, and cursed are they who cause to bleed;
Such but evil, love knowing nothing of it, and why of you I tell and teach,
"Don’t hurt that soul! Never, never, never, but always higher and better reach."

By Lance Landall

The first line in the second verse was altered in this poem on 24 August 2018.

35.  Nothing That Says More

In this rough and busy world there is nothing that says more than a tender touch,
That reassuring rub that conveys someone’s empathy and can mean so much.
Or that reassuring word that is thoughtfully given when it’s needed too,
Both given from the heart and touching hearts, hence those tears that may come into view.

Yes, tears of gratitude, such touches often long in the coming for many,
And thus they even catching by surprise, some souls not having received any.
All why those tender touches are worth their weight in gold; more needed everyday,
And why I pray that Earth may be rich in such, for much those tender touches say.

By Lance Landall

36.  Where Love Starts

If it weren’t for love, where would we be, and I dare say, “No more,”
But gone like other creatures, some that only some of us saw.
Hence why love is paramount, yet far less we’re seeing today,
Which can only work against us, and hence why for more I pray.

Yes, may love become plentiful where it’s scarce. And where there’s heaps,
May it spread its unselfish mantle with warm embracing leaps,
Because we’ve a world that needs filling, those holes in many hearts,
And right there in every home and family is where love starts.

By Lance Landall

37.  Dreamsville

Some of us seem to spend time in Dreamsville, a hiding place of sorts where we go,
Leaving the world and all its disappointments behind, and where ill winds don’t blow.
Our imagination creating a brighter scene, a much happier place,
One where dreams come true, one where we’re successful, a kind of therapeutic space.

And there in Dreamsville we smile and sigh until we return to reality,
That place where things don’t happen the same because we’re not dealing with fantasy.
Yes, a place where we mostly live, we doing our best and hoping that one day
Those pleasant things that we create in our imagination will come our way.

By Lance Landall

38.  Don't Rush Life

Too often life is rushed rather than savoured, kind of over before it’s begun,
We aware of sunny rays but not really taking the time to rest in the sun.
We grasping a bunch of flowers but not really smelling them, and so it oft goes,
And by the time we’ve got there, wherever that is, life’s door is beginning to close.

We more often looking through portals rather than being engaged in the real scene,
Chasing some end rather than enjoying the journey, puffed out and having to lean.
Yes, only really reclining in those final years, our health all the less for that rush,
And then our life expiring, so little time for love and laughter, and then that hush.

By Lance Landall